Wonderland
by Bethany Ruth
Summary: "This?" He said, gesturing to the remains of long-since abandoned cars while taking a drag from his cigarette. "This is Wonderland."


**Yet again, I had an idea that wouldn't leave me alone, and this was all inspired by a picture that I found on the internet, which I shall post a link to below this drabble. So yeah, what do you think?**

**MY INSPIRATION: **http : / / images1 . fanpop . com / images / photos / 1300000 / Joseph-in-Wonderland-scans-joseph-gordon-levitt-1383186-1700-2338 . jpg

He walked, confused, down the central path in the deserted forest. The air was cold, if a little crisp, and there was a fog lingering around the bases of the trees that was so palpable that it moulded around his torso as he waded through it slowly. His breath joined the haze around him as he exhaled softly. The trees – of which there must have been thousands – varied in height and width the further through the forest he walked. Looking up, he couldn't even see the sky for the tops of the trees, thousands of feet above his head. It was daytime, dusk perhaps: an orange glow surrounded him, lighting up the ground majestically with each touch of his boots to the heavy litter of leaves below him. There was no breeze, not a hint of a wind, if it weren't for the light swaying he could hear, he would doubt that he was outside at all. After hearing a disturbance behind him, he hastily turned and looked around. What he saw was a solemn and lone deer, looking as frightened as he did. The deer was a stag, his antlers giving a sense of pride to his demeanour while his eyes made him fragile. Stood stock still, man and deer could see the parallels they shared: both in this bizarre environment, both on edge and frightened of every sight and sound, and both being hunted, but not knowing what by. A once over was given by the deer, and after a graceful nod of its head, he was lost in the mist of the forest, to continue in his silent parade of peace.

For a moment, the man considered it a little off that the deer had nodded to him, actually acknowledged him, but he quickly moved on, deciding that it was in his best interest to keep walking. Turning around, he continued the certain stride he had going before he heard the stag. The man wondered what he'd got himself in to. He'd done many a thing in his life, but he'd never fallen down a hole this deep before. He'd been sat by the river bank, bored as could be, with his sister. She'd offered him a game of truth or dare, and – naturally – he'd accepted it. She'd dared him to jump from the tree they were resting against across to one of the many others in their family's 7 acre garden, which of course, he'd accepted. He never refused a dare. So he'd climbed the tree, but whilst at the top of the large oak, he'd noticed what must've been a squirrel hole. His curiosity had got the better of him, as it always had, and he'd peered in. Before he knew it, he'd lost his balance and was falling down the tree again, and when he hit the ground he passed out. Upon awaking, however, he realised he could not possibly be in the same place he was: this was not his garden, his home was nowhere in sight. He was in this peculiar forest. Curiosity being the dominant factor in his personality, he couldn't just lie where he woke for very long: he had to check this place out. Naturally, something so ethereal was both wondrous and petrifying simultaneously, so he was in no rush on his exploration. He was sure he was being followed so far. From when he woke up he heard whispers, echoes in the forest. He was unable to pinpoint whether or not he was just being paranoid, but he thought better safe than sorry was always the way to go when lost in any place as mysterious as this.

Alexandrios was a good boy, generally, sure he loved his mischief, but he was polite, kind, and good in school. His parents were very proud of him, as he was of himself. He wasn't afraid to admit that he could be very smug. For a boy of seventeen, verging on eighteen, he was very witty, and strong. Stronger than any of his friends, and stronger than his father. He displayed broad shoulders and a thick neck, large hands and a handsome face: he was a pleasant sight for many of the people – both male and female – in his town. All of the fathers wanted him to marry their daughters: he was loyal, smart, and brave. Alexandrios boasted good fighting skills also; he was a good archer, and a better swordsman, he could ride a horse too. He was a fantastic rider, there wasn't a mount he couldn't handle, he'd even broken a couple of stallions himself. He always felt secure and safe, in his stately home, in his country town: he always knew what to expect, and he liked that predictability.

This place though, was unlike anything he'd ever seen. He'd been keeping his calm though, and keenly observing every little thing he could. Other than that stag, there had been very minor disturbances in the forest, until now. Alexandrios heard something breathing behind him, not close, but definitely focused on him. He froze and held his breath. The breathing was quite low to the ground, something smaller than him, but it was loud, as though forced through the large nose of a much larger muzzle. A wolf. He'd dealt with wolves at home, hunted them sometimes. Rarely successful, wolves are hunters far better than man. Once he'd begun to listen, he heard more. Two to his left, three on his right, one some way ahead of him, buried in the mist. A second pair of noisy nostrils joined the one behind him. Eight wolves in total; he didn't stand a chance. He couldn't run, he was surrounded. _What have you gotten yourself into now Alex?_ He thought to himself, believing it to be his last thought as he gazed into the distance, noticing a clearing in the forest, hearing the crunching of thirty-two paws on the hard earth. Closing his eyes, Alexandrios flinched when he heard an unbearably loud noise, its echo reverberating endlessly between the trees. Slowly; after Alex realised that he wasn't being mauled to death, he opened his eyes. No wolves were in sight. But what must that sound have been? It was enough to scare the wolves off. It must have been immense. Alex couldn't stop the images of foul, demonic beasts larger than life, clawing at the earth with tremendous paws, sniffing the ground for a scent, _his_ scent. Before he could worry about it any longer, Alex was running forwards, desperate to get away from that dreadful sound, and all the danger that it bore. Nearly tripping over his feet, Alexandrios noticed that it must have been getting warmer: he couldn't see his breath anymore.

Absently, Alex noticed that the trees were becoming few and far between, until he ran straight into a large clearing and stopped. He bent over, hands resting on his knees and breathing heavily. After a moment, he looked up, straightening out, and took in the clearing. It was daylight here, middle of the day sun beat down on his body, he could've sworn it was almost night time in that forest, not that he had any intentions of going back there to find out. Instead, he looked out over the clearing: it was like a meadow, a couple of stray trees here and there, long, yellow grass reaching up and tickling his elbows. One of the further trees had some strange complex around it, made of some mesh that he couldn't possibly describe. Within it were the most bizarre shapes Alex had ever seen. Like...dead monsters. They were all broken up, rusting and such. Parts falling off here and there; they confused him beyond belief. Of course, though, they only made him more curious. Walking, slower this time, towards the bizarre shapes, Alex began to make out a person: a young man. Around the same age as him perhaps, slighter, and wearing the strangest clothes. His jacket and trousers were the same, dark blue, rough-looking material, and he wore a shirt that was dark red, with black lines creating small squares all across it. He had short, brown hair that hung slightly onto his forehead; rough stubble grew around his jaw and chin, and from his mouth hung a small white stick with smoke pouring from it as he breathed. He was sat on top of one of the broken, rusty monsters. When Alex was once a few feet away from him, the young man turned to address him, taking in his form with a visible look up and down his body, his eyebrows rose a little and he took the stick from his mouth to speak.

"Who're you?" His voice was like nothing Alex had ever heard, it twisted his words with an interesting drawl that Alex liked the sound of.

"Eames, Alexandrios Eames."

"Eames." He said, like he tasted the word. After a moment, he nodded and held out his hand. "I'm Arthur." Not wanting to be rude, Eames took the offered hand and held it to his mouth, kissing the back of it the way he was taught. Once he let Arthur's hand go, Arthur looked at him a little sceptically and Eames was afraid he'd done something wrong. "Okay."

"What...what is that?" Eames asked, gesturing to the surface upon which Arthur was sitting, and the many others surrounding the area.

"It's a car. These are all cars. Abandoned pieces of shit now mind you, but they _were_ cars."

"I'm sorry, _cars_? What are they?" At this, Arthur gave another disbelieving look and leaned forward a little on the bonnet of the car.

"You don't know what cars are?" Eames shook his head. "They're how people get around, a mode of transport."

"Oh. Where I come from people ride horses to get around."

"Where _do_ you come from?"

"England."

"How did you get here?"

"I uh...I don't actually know."

"Ah." Arthur said, as though that explained everything. Eames, unfortunately, still didn't understand, and his curiosity got the better of him.

"Where is...this?" He asked, holding his arms out to the meadow in the clearing of the mysterious forest. He looked to Arthur as he took another breath from the white stick.

"This?" He said, gesturing to the remains of long-since abandoned cars while taking a drag from his cigarette. "This is Wonderland."

**So there you have it, my crazy little idea. Let me know what you think: do you want me to continue this into something more?**


End file.
